


Punch in the Heart

by Sar_Kalu



Series: A little bit of fluff to make you smile [2]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016), Ghostbusters - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, LITERALLY, Well - Freeform, Yet another fluff fest, based of yet another song, basically wlw, end of the day fic, fluff and love and romance and the relationship we all want, healthy love, home after a long day fic, hopefully makes you smile, makes you smile, music is the inspiration we all need, no I'm not even sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9524141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sar_Kalu/pseuds/Sar_Kalu
Summary: Long days suck, but it's not as bad when you have someone to love and share it with.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "And I feel you love like a punch in the hear,  
> And every time your near I'm back to the start  
> And the wheels keep taking me back to your street,  
> Where I would press you against the bonet just to feel you heat"  
> \- Josh Pyke, Feat Katy Steele, "Punch in the Heart"

Erin is leaning against the doorframe that opens up into the living room-cum-kitchen and she’s watching Jillian as she slowly dances to a beat only she can hear as she cooks dinner for the two of them. Erin’s day has been long and troubled and all she had wanted to do was curl up on the couch and watch bad TV; but here and now, as she’s watching Jillian as she shifts from foot to foot, the pads of her feet scuffling lightly against the tiles as she moves, Erin’s perfectly content where she is. 

Jillian is a child of the summer time. This is something that Erin has come to learn over the year and a half of their relationship. That Jillian Holtzmann is a woman of many facets, a diamond that sparkles in the sunshine, and Erin cannot look away.

At work, Jillian is all overalls and heavy work boots and thick-lensed goggles that protect her eyes from the flashing white light of her soldering iron. Jillian is crazy dance moves, lip-synching, hip gyrating, and loud at all times. Jillian is chaos confined to human form; loud bangs, screeching metal, and the occasional scream Patty whenever they go too fast around a bend in the road on their way to another bust. Erin had always thought that this, - with the paint, with the motor oil, with the long streaky grease stains all over her clothing, - that this had been everything there was to know about Jillian Holtzmann. 

Erin could not have been more wrong. 

At home, Jillian wears baggy pants and loose shirts and she walks around their apartment in bare feet with her hair loose around her shoulders. Jillian is the quiet of the early morning, the scuffing of toes over cold tiles, and the whimper of bad dreams soothed by sleepy kisses in the middle of the night. Jillian is softness and warmth, kind hands trailing over loose shoulders, soft kisses pressed to warm cheeks, gentle smiles, and teasing jokes – and Erin is entranced.

Every time Erin is close to Jillian, it’s like she’s back to the start. It’s been a year but every kiss leaves her breathless. Every smile is like the sun coming out behind the clouds. Every touch is both exciting and comforting all at once. Every time Jillian is close to her, Erin reaches out, fingers outstretched and entangling into the soft cotton of Jillian’s shirts or the heavy fabric of her jackets and pulling her in tight and close. 

Tonight is no exception. 

Outside a cold wind blows and Erin can almost hear the love she holds for Jillian singing between them. The patter of almost-snow on the windows muffles Erin’s footsteps as she crosses the room and settles at the counter, chin propped on her hand as she watches Jillian softly singing as she cuts up vegetables for the salad she’s making. 

The knife is a cold silver shaft of light held firmly in a steady hand as the other guides the carrot beneath the sharp blade. The soft snick as the knife moves up and down smoothly in Jillian’s hand is rhythmic and soothing and Erin loses herself to the slow, steady movement and her girlfriends’ calm. She is barely aware of the sigh she makes, but Erin is aware of Jillian stilling, her movements ceasing and the smile that lights up her youthful face as she turns to Erin, eyes shining in delight.

“Erin,” Jillian breathes, as though her day has not been as peaceful as her calm and ease had otherwise suggested. “You’re home,” and Erin cannot help the smile she give Jillian, because it’s true. She is home now. Here and now, with Jillian standing before her, hands pressed to the counter between them and smiling like Erin was the only thing she wanted and needed in her life. Yes, Erin is home.

“Jill,” Erin greets her girlfriend back; softly, gently, and above all, lovingly. “How was your day?”

And Jillian’s smile widens as she leans forwards and presses a light kiss to Erin’s lips and Erin captures her gently, hand cupping the defined line of Jillian’s jaw and holding the younger woman in place because this, - this kiss, this moment, this woman, - is soothing after a long day of guest lecturing at Princeton and Erin’s been looking forward to this moment all day.

Jillian pulls back smiling softly and rests her forehead against Erin’s, “my day was slow,” she tells Erin blissfully, more revelling in Erin’s presence than truly thinking about the long day she just experienced at the fire station, “I spent it drafting,” this latter addition is spoken ruefully and Erin can almost feel the day’s frustration bubbling below the surface of the lightly spoken words. 

Jillian is a doer, she doesn’t enjoy the planning, the listing, the sketching; but she does it because without the planning, the listing, the sketching, explosions are more likely and explosions make Erin worry and scared; and Jillian hates it when she scares Erin.

Erin’s hum is appreciative and she presses a kiss to her girlfriends lips in gratitude, “thank you, love, I know you hate drafting but I appreciate your forethought,” Erin tells her gently.

Jillian shrugs a little as she pulls back, her smile a little embarrassed but proud all the same. The counter between them is an ocean of white and the world is a little colder with Jillian’s absence and Erin watches as she turns back to where she’d been making the salad and Jillian starts chopping the carrots again to distract herself from what was to follow, her voice a little sheepish to Erin’s keenly listening ears, “yes, well, I thought... a proton sword?”

And Erin wants to say no, she really does, because a sword means close combat and close combat means more danger for all of them; but Erin’s not stupid, she knows busts can go wrong and maybe having a weapon for close quarters could one day save their lives. “Tell me more,” Erin invites, because this is Jillian and she loves listening to her girlfriends’ brilliance and is always awed by Jillian’s inventiveness.

And Jillian does. She explains the mechanics, the changes to technology she’s trying to create, the problems she’s encountered, and the admission that she’s not even sure this is possible. Because it’s one thing to harness a stream of proton energy into a gun with a trigger and a nozzle and there’s a huge difference in that, and in trying to bind proton energy to a metal surface and Erin understands the mathematics, but she’s lost when Jillian starts talking about phasers and lasers and wouldn’t it be cool if she could “stiffen” the proton energy into a lightsabre?

Erin often wonders if her girlfriend is present in the real world, whatever that may be, or if she gets a little too caught up in what-might-be to really think if something should be done, let alone could it be done; but that’s a part of Jillian’s charm, and in the end, Erin doesn’t really mind.

Dinner continues on to the same affect and the rain outside changes to sleet and the noise is that much louder. But Miles Davis is playing softly on the record player that Jillian had found in a second-hand store and fixed, good-as-new, just for Erin, who had the strangest habit of collecting old jazz records from garage sales. Strangest, because while Erin loves jazz albums and listening to jazz music; she refuses to go to live shows, disdaining the musicians tendencies at playing the same three notes on repeat at varying frequencies and rhythms. Jillian figures it’s just an Erin-thing, and it’s also something that’s always amused her – because it just makes no sense, at all.

Their night winds down as the clock ticks closer to ten pm, and Erin is sleepily curled up under Jillian’s arm on the couch as they half-heartedly watch Chopped and comment on the mistakes that the chefs are making. Jillian loves cooking, it was something that one of her foster-mom’s had taught her during a short stay in-between families. Erin loves that Jillian can cook, because the nights of her apartment smelling of cheap takeout and regrets are now long over and she can instead smell fresh baked bread, pasta sauces, and curries throughout their shared home. 

Personally, Jillian loves that Erin cleans, because that has never really been something she’s good at but Erin’s bizarrely into the whole cleaning thing and Jillian is happy enough to reap the benefits of always being able to find her keys.

As Jillian turns the TV off, Erin ducks into the kitchen and fills up a glass of water, from there they make their way into the bedroom where Erin sets the glass on her bedside table and Jillian brushes her teeth. They trade off, Jillian stripping off her clothes and Erin removing her make up and brushing her teeth. When Erin climbs into bed, Jillian is already on her back with her arms wide open, waiting for her girlfriend to climb into her tired embrace. 

As Erin settles between the sheets and into Jillian’s warmth, she cannot help one last sleepy smile, because even after a year, she feels Jillian’s love like a punch to the heart. She’s breathless and happy and she cannot believe that this life, - domestic, sappy and comfortable, - is hers to have and enjoy. It’s like nothing she could ever have predicted, but Erin’s happy where she is and she wouldn’t trade it for all the gold in the world. 

And Jillian’s arms tighten around her and Erin folds herself in deeper, at peace with the world, her long day forgotten in the face that is the love of her girlfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> The second part, as promised. :)
> 
> Thank you all for commenting on my previous work(s), I appreciate your kind words. I hope you all like this one just as much. I'll admit that I'm not really very good at fluff and everything I post is edited to the best of my ability as I do not have a beta reader. 
> 
> Cheers,  
> Sar'Kalu


End file.
